Thank you, Canada.

What a great 16 days of Winter Olympic games in Vancouver.  From the snow boarder jumping through the Olympic rings to kick off the opening ceremonies to the very classy selection of Neil Young singing Long May You Run as the flame was extinguished, it was one whale of a show.

My family would gather every night after dinner and watch the athletic drama.  The frenetic pace of short-track speed skating.  The grueling endurance of the cross country skiing. The confusion of curling…

It wasn’t just the competition that caught our imaginations.  The courage of the Georgian Olympic delegation pressing on after the loss of their fellow countryman Nodar Kumaritashvili during a practice luge run. The grace of bronze medal winning Canadian figure skater Joannie Rochette who took to the ice mere days after the passing of her mother. Gold medal winning bobsled driver Steven Holcomb who, just two years after an experimental eye operation to save his vision, piloted the United States four-man bobsled to its first gold medal since 1948 at the St. Moritz games.

While the Vancouver games took place during the last two weeks of February, other Olympic competitions took place four months earlier in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. No, IOC president Jacques Rogge didn’t stand at a podium and declare them open. However, the Hand Tool Olympics did take place at the Woodworking in America conference last October.

Mike Siemsen and a cast of volunteers conducted two solid days of competition, which included the one meter dash (rip cutting a three-foot-long board), Greco Roman tenons, boring, crosscutting, hand planing and – the toughest of them all – the two-tailed dovetail challenge.

Not only where contestants judged on their speed, but their accuracy as well. By stuffing a number of playing cards into the joints or under a straight edge, the accuracy judging was tough, with running commentary offered as part of the enjoyment.

Those were some tough and challenging games, and I really don’t want to go into how well (poorly) I did.

I understand that there’s a possibility that Mike might be bringing back the Hand Tool Olympics for this year’s WIA conference.  Maybe I can improve my Jamaican bobsled team performance and get a little closer to the podium this year…

I love my old hand planes.  One of the first I ever bought was an old Stanley Bailey No. 5 jack plane. It was one of the best purchases I had ever made.

The handle is solid and the sole is corrugated. I know those little parallel grooves probably do nothing, but man, they are cool.  Through the years, I have figured out the most effective way to use it when preparing a board for a project.   It has saved me a lot of time (over using a belt sander), space (no need for a jointer) and money (again with the jointer) for my prep work.

And then it happened.

I had been working with the old iron preparing some boards for the cutting board project I recently built. Things were going very well as I fell into the routine of board prep. Plane the boards with the jack, follow with the jointer and put the flattened side face down through the thickness planer.

While I was cleaning up between boards, I noticed a little accumulation of shavings in the mouth. No big deal. I levered open the cap iron, took out the iron assembly, blew out  the offending shavings and reassembled the plane.  I set the plane down on the bench and walked over to get the broom to sweep up the shavings at my feet.

Ping.

“What the heck was that?” I thought as I turned back to the bench.  It was worse than I had imagined. The cap iron had snapped… sheared right across the lower third.  DANG!

I’m not sure what happened.  Did I have the screw set too tightly?  Did I somehow knock the plane against something?  Or, did the cap iron just give way after more than 100 years of use?

I’m not sure what the deal was, but I know that now I have to start hunting around eBay and the local flea markets to find a replacement cap iron.

Oh, and while I’m looking, I guess there was nothing wrong with buying this, an ECE wooden bodied jack plane. This baby is sweet!  The only problem is the instructions for this plane were written in German, except the words ‘Made in Germany’ for some strange reason…

This past weekend, I found out that a woodworker had passed away.

No, it wasn’t met with the nationwide attention of the passing of Sam Maloof or James Krenov, but it marked the loss of a very talented woodworker.

Early on in my time writing Tom’s Workbench, I was thoroughly impressed by the posts on the Woodworkers Website Association by Niki Avrahami, a woodworker who lived in Poland. When faced with a woodworking problem, Niki would build a jig.  Not any kind of jig, but a jig that would just blow your mind when you saw it.

Elegant. Thoroughly thought out. Built with common materials. Bordering on genius.

Take this table saw sled Niki designed.  Just this one plan has 40 large annotated photos showing how to unpack and use the saw jig he had designed in an earlier post.  Clear, easy-to-follow instructions that anyone can follow.  They show from the first steps of setting it up, how it’s used, the results of the cutting and – as with all of the posts Niki wrote – a ‘Thank You.’

Niki’s work was so innovative, he submitted several plans to woodworking magazines – and many of those were awarded as top tips.  He posted his how-to’s on woodworking forums in Australia, Europe and North America. Thousands of woodworkers have been inspired by his creations.

While I interviewed Niki, I kept asking him, “Why don’t you write a book with these jig designs?  It would be a top seller.”

And, every time I asked him, he always responded, “If I wrote a book, who would do my woodworking?”

Fortunately for us, Niki had left his plans and designs scattered across the Internet for others to read, learn from and build. Unfortunately, this got me thinking that there are many other woodworkers who do pass on and don’t leave a legacy of their knowledge for anyone.  A few projects, some well worn tools and that’s it. All of the years of experience and know-how taken with them, removed from play forever.

In today’s world, many segments of knowledge are being lost to the ages. Master woodworker Toshio Odate spoke sadly about his friends who forge high-quality Japanese steel into chisels and plane irons.  These elderly gentlemen in generations past would have shared their trade secrets with their sons, continuing the line of knowledge.  Today, many of their children  and grandchildren go on to high-paying office jobs rather than sweat at the forge. When those old men go, that very well might mean the end of superior-quality hand-forged Japanese steel.

Thinking back on Niki’s passing this weekend, I think it’s critical that I ask each of you to do one favor for the entire woodworking community.  No, you don’t have to start a website or draft a manuscript for a woodworking book. What I would propose that each of us do is to seek out an up-and-coming woodworker.  A granddaughter or grandson.  A neighbor.  A Boy or Girl Scout troop.  Invite them into your shop to watch you work and learn from you.

You might be the one to inspire a future woodworker.. and to ensure that your hard-learned knowledge continues well beyond your years.

Rest in peace, Niki.

Video games have been around for quite a while. From the first game of Pong to the latest hack-and-slash Internet capable first person fantasy role playing game, there’s something out there for just about everyone.

One of the traditional genres for video games has been sports simulation games.  Those old football, baseball and basketball games were pretty weak at first, but they have become more sophisticated through the years. Now, you can assume the first person role of New York Yankee Derek Jeter, New Orleans Saints Reggie Bush or Cleveland Cavalier LeBron James and actually make game decisions that can affect the final outcome of the game. Sure, the majority of folks playing the games don’t have a shot of making a professional team, these games have been known to encourage a few players to get out and try their hand at picking up a new sport.

While these games are great… and getting more sophisticated every year, the gaming public wanted more. That’s when the Guitar Hero and Rock Band game series were created.  Now, gamers weren’t on a sunny ballfield facing down a determined opponent, they were thrust on stage as part of a rock and roll band, crushing fierce note streams in front of adoring fans.

This was an interesting shift in gaming. A totally new field of games had been opened to people who don’t want to necessarily play shoot ‘em ups or sports.  The games come with guitars, drum kits and microphones, enough to get a group of players to believe they are on world tour.

And, as my sons and I have played Rock Band in our living room, I have warmed to the idea of picking up an instrument for the first time of my life.  The bass guitar.  I’m shopping around now, but hope to have one by Father’s Day.  Gotta save those pennies, ya know!

Now, with music conquered, video game designers have moved to an even more non-traditional game genre – cooking.  I been seeing ads for Cook or be Cooked, the first video game from the Food Network.  In this game, the players can hone their knife skills, expertly season the food they are preparing and bake, saute or stew their creations to a perfect level of doneness. There’s even a  tasting by judges to see if the dish is up to the high culinary standards expected.

I know that the shows on the Food Network have inspired me on several occasions to get into the kitchen to try a new recipe or two. Perhaps players of this game might be inspired to get off their butts, not call for take out and discover that lightly used room in their homes… the kitchen.

Now, I think the next step will be to make a woodworking video game.  No, seriously!  Imagine how it would work… you could have a selection of projects to choose from… a bookcase, a decorative box, a Maloof-inspired rocking chair and some other challenging and interesting ones.

Then, you can choose from a selection of tools… a virtual table saw, tenon saw, chisels, drills… the works.  A little cutting, a little shaping, a little gluing and sanding and you have a project. Then, you bring the final piece before a virtual Marc Spagnuolo or Norm Abram get judged on your work.  If you had some high-end tool manufacturers come on board… hey… we might be on to something here!

Sure, it may sound crazy, but with fewer schools offering shop class… virtual might not hurt to get new woodworkers into the craft…

The Grammies.  The Emmies.  The Oscars.

This is the time of the year when the luminaries of the entertainment world gather to recognize accomplishments in the field, strut the latest fashions and act like buffoons in front of the national media.

No, that’s not what happened in Clearwater, Florida this past Monday.

That’s when the winners of the National Arts Program contest were announced in a brief ceremony at the Pinellas County Government TV studio.  This year saw the largest number of entries in the contest, and awards were given in the Youth under 12, Youth 13 – 18, Adult beginner, Adult Intermediate and Adult professional categories.

I have got to admit, it was a little intimidating being in the contest this year…  the quality of the entries was very high and the competition was tough.

The judges in the contest had a lot to choose from in each category, and awarded an Honorable Mention, Third, Second and First prize in each judging category. Here’s what they eventually settled on in the Adult Professional category…

Honorable Mention:  Solitude by Mark Smith, Photography

Third Place: Somber Gentleman by Douglas Thonen, Painting

Second Place: Nakashima-Inspired Bench by Tom Iovino, Craft

First Place: Inception of a Burden by Debra Lansdowne, Works on paper

Yes, that’s the same Debra Lansdowne who made the ceramic bowl for the Mars and Venus Rising piece I showed earlier.  While I didn’t take first place, I can’t complain… the quality of the works was stunning.

And, I would be remiss if I didn’t thank a few folks… namely the guys up at Bell Forest Products who helped me find the stunning maple board that formed the top of the bench and Craig Andrews of Austin, Texas who offered some design suggestions for the base.  Thanks, guys!

Now.. what am I gonna build for next year’s contest? And, will I have to buy a tuxedo for the next award ceremony?

[Today's post is a guest column from Seattle-based woodworker Thomas M. Scott.  He's talented, funny and very knowledgeable about hand tools. Here's his take on a discussion you may have participated in.]

One of the things I love about getting together with other woodworkers, either in person, or online, is discussing methods of work. It often seems as though there are as many different ways of tackling a problem, as there are woodworkers to discuss it.

A discussion of this nature, usually starts thus: The problem is laid out, and the solutions begin with the most expedient (read simple) use of whatever machine or power tool a participant has the most experience with. Then, someone will usually suggest a specific joint, or classic method, modified for modern machinery. Eventually, the discussion comes around to how it was done in antiquity, and how, or why that particular joint or method is so well suited to its purpose, and if the modern variants are really any improvement over the original.

For example, the discussion might concern the construction of a simple frame, for a frame and panel, or a face frame. Someone will suggest that it could go together quickly with pocket screws.

“All you need is the jig, some pocket screws and the power drill.”

Certainly, someone else will prefer to use dowels (perhaps they already have a doweling jig). Once the pros and cons of dowels versus pocket screws have been exhausted, someone else may suggest a mortise and tenon joint. The virtues of various tenoning jigs are weighed; maybe someone will have built their own.

If this is an international forum, as is likely online, then there will inevitably be a sidebar of the differences between tenoning with a router verses a table saw. Perhaps, someone will bring up the convenience of floating tenons, and of course, everyone will wish that they owned a square mortising machine

And yet, the patient among us, …hold fire until the last possible moment, …when the debate has nearly petered out, … just before the discussion threatens to change entirely. In timing, it’s not unlike an auction, with anxious bidders rapidly exhausting their funds until only one or two are left bidding. Then, just as it seems that the deal is sealed, from some unheard corner comes a new bid,

“Why not just chop the mortises out by hand, and trim the tenons with a shoulder plane?”

After what resembles a stunned silence, the discussion continues with renewed vigor, and those whom were eagerly waiting to speak, now become anxious listeners. New (old) terms are employed, such as ‘haunched’, and ‘foxed’. There will be a discussion of how to ensure precision, using proper technique. Examples of the ancient method will be trotted out as testament to their strength and durability. And each of us will privately examine his own ability to do things the way our forefathers did.

[Thanks, Tom.  By the way, today is the awards ceremony for the art contest at the county courthouse.  I'll have an update on Wednesday's post.]

Well, for those of you who follow Tom’s Workbench, you may have noticed that there was no quick poll yesterday.  That’s because I had to spend the better part of my Sunday stuck in the Atlanta airport due to very heavy weather.

I was traveling home from a great weekend trip to celebrate a special birthday with my Dad.  He and my step-mom were on a road trip through North Carolina, and were spending some time with my younger brother and his family in Raleigh.  I flew up to surprise him, and boy, was he ever surprised when I walked out into the main terminal.

We spent Saturday over in Durham, North Carolina near where the Durham Bulls play baseball. It’s a gorgeous ballfield, and I’m sure in the spring it must be great to get out and take in a game there.

Immediately adjacent to the field is the American Tobacco Campus. This is where Lucky Strike cigarettes were made for decades before their production moved.  The old facilities, as in many other cities, were converted from their industrial use to a mixed-use office, entertainment and retail location.

While we were eating lunch in a place called Tyler’s Taproom.  While the smells of the food were mesmerizing and the selection of more than 50 microbrews was impressive, what really struck me was the woodwork.

Tyler’s is located in an old tobacco storage bay, which was little more than a warehouse for the leaves.  So, as you can imagine, the interior was built and left to weather.  The walls were the old brick, featuring the rich patina of age.  The ceiling and beams were all made of old-growth heart pine.

Now, we’re talking.

To keep the appearance, the posts that supported the ceiling beams were kept intact.  One must have rotted, because it was replaced by a steel post clad with wood to make it appear old.

The really amazing thing to see were the benches that were outside the restaurant.  Under the overhangs that shielded the working areas from the scorching summer sun (completely unnecessary in the cooler January air), a series of benches were set out for visitors to rest during their day.

The wood on these babies was impressive.  Sawn from beams taken from the renovation of the warehouses, these pine benches featured six inch thick slabs complete with original bolt holes.  These were mounted on some impressive looking ironwork. Just sitting on these benches gave me a sense of appreciation for how difficult it must have been to fell these large trees and the the care shown in how the wood was reworked into its present form.

We all had a great time celebrating with dad, and he was very happy to be spending his birthday with all three of his sons.

Now, the trip back to Tampa… let’s just say that I got home this morning at 3 a.m.  I should have been on the ground 7 p.m. last night.  But, hey, that’s what happens when you fly with winter weather…